


Little Things

by TheSisterhoodOfTheTravelingFics



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Implied Eren/Levi, M/M, One Shot, Songfic, chubby!marco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:10:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSisterhoodOfTheTravelingFics/pseuds/TheSisterhoodOfTheTravelingFics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean notices at a party that Marco is a bit insecure about himself. He decides to sing him a song he wrote to show him that he loves him no matter what he looks like. Idea is from Thisismouseface and her Chubby!Marco AU. Fan fiction by Alltimeshaynaxx</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Things

 

**Little Things – By Shayna “alltimeshaynaxx”**

 

                Jean looked up once again only to frown and look back down at his fingers moving along the neck of the guitar. Marco wasn’t there yet.

                He should be having fun; he was doing what he loved most in a room full of the people he loved most.  They were all crammed into Eren, Mikasa, and Armin’s tiny apartment celebrating Armin’s eighteenth birthday, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to be happy without the younger freckled boy around.

                Jean finished the song he was on and all of his friends clapped and cheered quietly- all except Connie and Sasha who hooted and hollars obnoxiously (which made Jean turn redder than what should be humanly possible).

                “I’m, um, gonna take a break.” He stuttered out, which made him more embarrassed than he already was, and of course made his face turn even darker.

                The small crowd went back to having friendly conversation amongst themselves, generally ignoring Jean as he stepped down from their make shift stage (a beaten up barstool on top of some kind of wooden crate with a piece of plywood laid across the top. It was pretty much a death-trap).

                Even though Jean considered these people his friends, and they him, they didn’t really know how to deal with him when Marco wasn’t around. Without Marco there he was moody like some petulant child and had a temper even Eren’s couldn’t compete with.

                Jean sat at the small kitchen table, his head in his hands.

                “Why isn’t Marco here already?” he thought grumpily. For a few minutes he watched all of the others mingle and laugh, being waved over a few times but shrugging each one off with an apologetic smile.

                Hands suddenly covered his eyes from behind and he felt someone’s chin on his head.

                “Guess who!” Marco sing-songed. He tried to disguise his voice, but let’s be honest here; Jean would know that voice anywhere.

                “Hmm, I don’t know,” He removed the hands from his face, “Could it be my extremely late boyfriend?”

                He turned in his seat looking at the dark haired boy in front of him. Marco smiled sheepishly.

                “I couldn’t decide what to wear.” He flushed (which made his freckles stand out more so than they already did) and tugged self-consciously at the hem of his shirt.

                Marco had been gaining weight lately, and even though Jean had reassured him multiple times that he thought it was cute that Marco was “a little soft around the edges” he couldn’t help but still feel uncomfortable about it.

                Jean stared blankly at him for a few moments before he abruptly stood, swinging his guitar over his shoulder and grabbing Marco’s hand, yanking him behind him.

                “Come with me Marco.”

                “Uhm, O-okay, but where-“

                “Don’t worry about it.”

                “Okay, but why-“

                “It’s a surprise.”

                “Jean, just tell me-“

                “No.”

                “Jea-“

                “Please.”

                “Hmmm….”

                “Please, please, please-“

                “No.”

                Marco made a sound in the back of his throat (trying to pretest, but sounding more like a dying dog) and pouted as Jean drug him upstairs.

                Jean threw the door to the first bedroom open only to see two people moving under the covers Probably Eren and Levi; those two couldn’t keep their hands off each other if their lives depended on it.

                Jean groaned (Marco screamed but let’s not talk about that) and slammed the door close, muttering something about brain-bleach.

                He threw the next door open and, after seeing it was unoccupied, pulled Marco in with him, locking the door behind them.

                “Umm, Jean, why are we in the bathroom?” Jean pointed at the toilet seat and nodded his head, indicating for Marco to sit. After he did, Marco sat on the edge of the tub next to him before answering.

                “I wrote a song for you. I want to show you!” he pulled his guitar so it was sitting in his lap.

                “And we’re doing this in the bathroom?” Marco asked confusedly.

                “Yes. Now shh.” He started to strum, closing his eyes as he began to sing.

_Your hand fits in mine_   
_Like it's made just for me_   
_But bear this in mind_   
_It was meant to be_   
_And I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks_   
_And it all makes sense to me_   
  
_I know you've never loved_   
_The crinkles by your eyes_   
_When you smile_   
_You've never loved_   
_Your stomach or your thighs,_   
_The dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine_   
_But I'll love them endlessly_

_***_

_You'll never love yourself half as much as I love you_   
_And you'll never treat yourself right, darling, but I want you to._   
_If I let you know I'm here for you_   
_Maybe you'll love yourself like I love you, oh._

                Jean finished up the song and opened his eyes to find Marco staring at him, eyes wet, cheeks ablaze, and his mouth set in a small smiled. Marco instantly yanked Jean in for a kiss.

                When they broke away, it was silent for a while, until Marco spoke.

                “We just kissed in a bathroom.”

                Jean rolled his eyes.

                “Shut up, Marco.”

                Marco started to play with the top button on Jean’s dress shirt, smiling shyly.

                “I don’t mind though.” He said, blushing light red as the top button came undone.

                 Jean smirked, putting his hands on the freckled boy’s waist as he leaned in for another kiss.

                And even though it was in the bathroom, it was the best kiss Marco had ever had. 


End file.
